Gotta Go Boom
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: In 2257, the Federation had managed to achieve peace with the klingons through peaceful means. In 2671, as the Confederation fought for its survival against the Kilrathi Empire, humanity found that it didn't have the same luxury of morality.


**Gotta Go Boom**

It was so tiny.

Relatively speaking, that was. The temblor bomb itself was about the size of a warhead – too heavy for any one human to lift by themselves. Even a kilrathi would likely have trouble with the device. Still, there weren't any kilrathi left on the _Victory_ , and in terms of humans…well, there were plenty. For a ship of this class at least. Course if this mission failed, there'd be a lot fewer humans on this ship (if this ship existed at all), and in a year's time, possibly no humans left in the Milky Way. Certainly no Confederation. Certainly no chance of victory against the kilrathi. And the only way to avoid that was a little bomb that was smaller than his body.

A bomb that could destroy a planet.

Christopher "Maverick" Blair stood on the flight deck, watching the device get loaded onto his Excalibur. Few of the techs were talking. All of them looked tired, Rachel most of all. For a moment he caught her eye. For a moment, time stopped, and he could forget that humanity was at war, that the outcome of that war would be decided over the next few hours, and that Jeanette was….He yawned, and turned away. That Jeanette was dead, and wouldn't live to see whether her actions at Kilrah would bring the Confederation victory, or be a footnote in the annals of kilrathi history. Of the "hairless ape" that had come close to annihilating their empire, but not close enough.

"You look tired."

He was tired, but looking at Todd, he decided not to show it.

"Getting old huh?" Todd continued. "Well, don't worry. After this I'm sure you can retire."

"What, and leave the future of our fighter pilots in your hands?" Christopher smirked. "Nah. I'm good."

"Yeah, but how good?" Christopher went to say something but Todd beat him to it, giving him a playful nudge. "Just screwing with ya. Just stay good enough to fire the bomb off, and then it's a happy retirement."

"And you?"

"Me? I get to go on to be a wing commander while you're ploughing the dirt on Nephele

"And what if I don't retire?"

"Then the universe ends, because we know that's not going to happen."

"How does that mean the universe ends?"

"Oh, paradoxes, parallel universes…something or other. I'm sure there's some sci-fi book somewhere that deals with it."

"You can read?"

Todd shrugged, and both pilots returned their gazes to the flight deck. Todd "Maniac" Marshall as his wingman in a mission that would determine the fate of humanity. Christopher didn't know if that was the best thing that could happen, or the worse. Granted, there weren't that many pilots left on the _Victory_ he could choose from – Hobbes? Dead. Cobra? Dead. Flash? Dead. Vaquero? Dead. Flint? Dead. Many others dead. If the kilrathi found the _Victory_ now, it was doubtful whether they could scramble enough fighters to defend it. And the temblor bomb, for all its destructive power, would only be useful on Kilrah, and only useful if fired correctly. But _if_ used correctly…

"Does it bother you?" Christopher asked.

Todd looked at him. "Huh?"

"This mission. We win through destroying the kilrathi homeworld, killing billions."

"Does it bother _you_?" Todd looked at him, his eyes narrow. On the edge of being a "maniac." The edge of his namesake.

"Maybe," Christopher said. He yawned again.

"Maybe?"

"Maybe I'm uneasy that we have to win the war through genocide."

"And what do you think the kilrathi have in store for us if we lose?" Todd asked. "What have they done to us already?"

 _More than you can imagine_ , Christopher thought. But he didn't say that. Taggart had been right in one thing – everyone had lost someone close to them. Jeanette was gone, and that hole in his heart might never be filled. But there were a lot of hearts in the human race, and decades of war had created a lot of holes.

"Still, it's not the first time we've considered this," Christopher said. "Remember the Confed-Klingon War in the twenty-third century?"

"Heh, which one?"

"2250s."

"Oh. That one. Where the klingons just gave up."

"Yeah, and why'd they do that?" Christopher asked. Todd didn't answer, so he continued. "We could have destroyed Qo'nos there as well, but we didn't. Confed found a way to make peace, using the bomb as a bargaining chip. The klingons could have moved on Earth, and we still found a way."

Todd shook his head, chuckling. "What?" Christopher asked.

"You," he said. "You think you're going to be a farmer after this, but you don't get that you're a politician."

"Am I?"

"Yeah. A politician. Someone who talks, or thinks, or does anything other than actually taking action."

"I _am_ taking action."

"Oh yeah?" Todd stretched his arms. "Well, keep telling yourself that buddy. Me? I'm going to spend my last hours left in this world in the flight simulator."

 _Your last hours?_ Christopher wondered. But again, he remained silent. Maybe he was a politician, only one that didn't speak for their convictions, but remained on the backbench. Certainly he remained in place as he watched Todd walk off, no doubt going to the flight simulator. Todd was, well, maniacal, but Christopher couldn't doubt his skill.

 _But what about your conviction? You've got the will to destroy the kilrathi, but you don't think we can succeed._

Maybe he was right. Yawning again, he looked back on what he knew of history. Confed had been willing to destroy Qo'nos then and there. It was only through the actions of Commander Burnham and her crew that 8 billion klingons hadn't been destroyed along with their homeworld. History had validated her actions, all things considered, even as the Confederation and Klingon Empire had grown distant – so distant that by the 27th century, both bodies stood alone, and humanity was left to fight the kilrathi by itself. But what if her plan had failed, and the klingons had stormed Earth all those centuries ago? What if this plan failed? Or, what if they could negotiate peace with the kilrathi even now? What if…

No. He shook his head. They had to get the bomb on Kilrah first, and that would be a miracle in of itself, let alone it actually working. His gaze returned to the bomb itself – there was always a bigger gun. That was what Rachel had told him. As small as it was, Christopher couldn't doubt her assessment. The temblor bomb wasn't on the same scale as the Behemoth, but it would do the job, if all things went to plan. And if they _did_ go to plan, then…

A maverick. He'd still be Christopher "Maverick" Blair. A man who'd killed…Christ, how many kilrathi _were_ on Kilrah anyway?

He couldn't say. And with Hobbes gone, he couldn't ask.

Most sickening of all, maybe it was better that he didn't even know.


End file.
